


Tonight, We Feast

by hanap



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 6000 Years of Love (Good Omens), Azirafeast, Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale is throwing a banquet, Blindfolds, Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley is the only thing on the menu, Double Penetration, Fluff and Smut, Food Kink, Harems, He/Him Pronouns For Aziraphale (Good Omens), He/Him Pronouns For Crowley (Good Omens), Light BDSM, Light Bondage, M/M, No Refractory Period, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Service Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:07:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27631166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanap/pseuds/hanap
Summary: “I love seeing you like this, you know,” Aziraphale says, crossing his legs as he takes a sip of wine from the glass he's holding. “Nothing pleases me more than seeing you pleased.”“So you’re just going to sit there and watch yourself debauching me?” Crowley says incredulously, a wide grin spreading across his face.“I’m going to sit here and watch youbeing debauched,” Aziraphale corrects him.[Or: Crowley indulges his angel. All four of them.]
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 65
Kudos: 270
Collections: Top Aziraphale Recs





	Tonight, We Feast

**Author's Note:**

> Mind the tags, please!

“How’s that, my dear?”

Crowley tugs experimentally on the silken red ropes tying him to the bedposts. Comfortable enough, but he could break out of them with enough force, he thinks. The thought must show on his face, because Aziraphale’s mouth quirks thoughtfully.

“Could do with a little more, I think.” Crowley looks up at Aziraphale, who nods and grasps the rope around one of his wrists firmly. The angel exhales, and Crowley feels a touch of divinity flowing into the knots, a sharp prickle balancing on the tightrope of pleasure and pain.

“Try it now?”

Once more, Crowley pulls on the rope – and he realises immediately that he won’t be able to break out of this, not without using his power. A shiver runs through him to know that he’d be at Aziraphale’s mercy. “Good. Just right, angel.”

Aziraphale smiles and reaches over to do the same on Crowley’s other wrist. He brushes his fingertips over Crowley’s bare chest. “Are you comfortable?”

“Yes,” Crowley breathes.

“Colour?”

“Green.”

Aziraphale’s fingers trace the curve of his neck, travelling up his jaw. “Remember you don’t have to wait for me to ask.”

Crowley nods, already lightheaded at the thought of what Aziraphale’s got planned. “Get on with it, angel.”

The blue eyes darken. “Patience, my love. All in good time. You know that better than anyone.” But Aziraphale bends down and kisses Crowley, nipping gently at his lower lip. “All you have to do tonight is enjoy yourself. You’ll do that for me, won’t you?”

“Yes, angel.” He’d promised Aziraphale he’d use his words today as best as he could, seeing as he couldn’t use his hands.

Aziraphale smiles against his lips and runs a hand down his side, making him shiver. “Good. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Crowley watches as the door shuts behind him. He tries to relax against the pillows, but he’s already half-hard in his trousers in anticipation. Briefly, he considers miracling them off, but he knows Aziraphale would prefer to do the honours. He flexes his bound wrists once more and wonders how much power it would take to break them – not that he wants to test them, of course, he’s just curious, and what the bloody Heaven is taking the angel so long? Crowley’s skin is thrumming with nerves and eagerness in equal measure. He resists the urge to yank at the ropes again. It wouldn’t do to have his wrists chafing this soon, and who knows how long Aziraphale’s planning on keeping him tied up tonight?

He shuts his eyes and breathes deeply, trying to achieve something that looks like calm. The suspense is agonising, and he suspects Aziraphale is doing it on purpose to rile him up, the bastard angel. A smile tugs at the corner of Crowley’s lips, and he decides that he isn’t going to give Aziraphale the satisfaction of seeing him undone before they had even started. He reclines more fully against the pillows, spreads his legs a little farther. He’d give just as good as he got. He takes another deep breath and waits, distracting himself by wondering how Aziraphale would pull off his little trick for tonight. 

Finally, after a few more minutes, the door clicks open. Crowley doesn’t move, but he hears footsteps cross the room, feels a heavy weight settle on the bed. He blinks his eyes open to see Aziraphale gazing at him so intently that the heat rises to his face. He pastes a smirk on. “Like what you see, angel?”

Aziraphale’s eyes rake up his body so slowly that Crowley wants to squirm under the heat of his gaze. “You look absolutely ravishing, my dear, and you know it.”

“We waiting for someone?” Crowley asks, throwing a sly grin at the angel.

“As a matter of fact, we are.” Aziraphale smiles back innocently as the door clicks open once more, and Crowley’s jaw drops as an exact replica of Aziraphale walks into their bedroom. He knew this was coming – Hell, he agreed to this, but seeing two Aziraphales at once is more overwhelming than he’d expected.

Crowley licks his lips, his mouth suddenly dry at the look on Aziraphale’s face as the other Aziraphale comes to stand on the other side of the bed. All of a sudden, he’s no longer certain whether it’s himself or Aziraphale who’s deriving more pleasure from this whole fantasy, because both Aziraphales are gazing at Crowley like they’re about to _devour_ him.

“That is… impressive,” Crowley says weakly, his eyes flicking back and forth between them.

The Aziraphale standing next to the bed smiles, and there’s a twinkle of wicked delight in his eyes that sends a wave of heat through Crowley’s entire body. “Oh, but I’m not done just yet.”

The doorknob turns a third time as yet another Aziraphale steps into the room and comes to a stop at the foot of the bed, his head tilted as he gazes at Crowley with just as much intensity as the other two. Crowley feels exposed, pinned down for display like a butterfly on a board, wings held open for inspection. His cock throbs in his jeans, which are growing uncomfortably tight.

“Angel,” he mutters. “You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

“This is all for you.” A sunny smile breaks on the third Aziraphale’s face. “I want to lavish every attention on you, in every way I can manage. Seeing you enjoying yourself… that is the greatest pleasure.”

Crowley’s face is burning as much from the words as from the scrutiny of all three Aziraphales watching him. A needy sound escapes his throat. So much for not letting Aziraphale see how deeply turned on he is by this. “If you don’t touch me now,” he says hoarsely, “I’m going to spontaneously combust.”

“Oh, Crowley,” one Aziraphale sighs. “What did I say about being patient?”

The door clicks open a _fourth_ time.

“Holy shit _,_ angel,” Crowley says faintly. His heart is beating a quick staccato in his chest to see four Aziraphales surrounding him, and his arms jerk involuntarily against the ropes – he gasps at the sudden burn of the rope combined with the tingling of the blessing.

“Like what you see?” The fourth Aziraphale _winks_ at him. Crowley feels as though he might pass out as the Aziraphale sitting on the bed cups his face gently. “Colour?”

“Green,” Crowley says in a rush. “Fucking green, angel.”

“You will tell me anytime if that changes?”

“Yes. Yes, I promise.”

He bites his lip as Aziraphale pulls a tartan handkerchief from his breast pocket, folding it tidily into a long strip in his lap before taking the two ends in both hands.

“Are you ready?” Aziraphale says, and a smile twitches at his lips.

“Oh, you bastard _,_ ” Crowley laughs. “You know I am, now _get on with it.”_ He shuts his eyes as the blindfold is wrapped around his head securely.

“Is that all right?”

“Yeah. Perfect.” The sudden sensory deprivation is making every inch of him vibrate with anticipation. His breath catches as a hand is pressed against his stomach. Another hand cups his cheek and turns his head gently, and soft lips capture his. The kiss is slow and languorous, Aziraphale’s tongue exploring Crowley’s mouth as another hand caresses his chest, stroking over one nipple, then the other. Fingertips trail across his waist as a pair of hands tugs his belt open, pulls it free of the loops.

There’s a snap of fingers, and Crowley gasps as the fly of his jeans undoes itself of its own accord, relieving some of the pressure from the tightness of his trousers.

“Look at you, darling,” Aziraphale coos, and Crowley exhales sharply as Aziraphale’s teeth closes around his earlobe and tugs gently before he begins licking and biting down the line of Crowley’s neck. “So hard for me already, aren’t you?” A moan rips from Crowley’s throat as a hand drags up his crotch, brushing artfully against the head of his cock.

“You bloody _tease,_ ” Crowley growls, tugging fruitlessly at the ropes. “If I could get my hands on you right now –”

“Oh, but you can’t, and isn’t that the whole point of this?”

Crowley can hear the smile in Aziraphale’s voice, and fuck, the angel is _infuriating_ sometimes, but Crowley loses his entire train of thought as one hand on his chest is replaced by a hot mouth, licking and sucking at his nipple. Fingers gently pinch the other nipple, rolling it between thumb and forefinger, and Crowley moans helplessly and bucks his hips as a hand travels up his calf, lingering for a moment at the crease behind his knee before travelling up his inner thigh.

“Patience,” Aziraphale murmurs directly into his ear.

Crowley grits his teeth as fingers trail just outside the lines of his underwear. It’s frustrating how Aziraphale knows how he secretly loves to be kept waiting, the building anticipation of a long delay. Aziraphale’s lips are on his again, and this time there’s a hand buried in his hair, and Crowley groans, nearly overwhelmed with the pleasure of so many mouths and hands everywhere but where he wants most to be touched.

“Aziraphale.” Crowley sighs as the hand on his thigh moves upward, gently brushing against his balls through his underwear. He can feel how much he’s leaking already, the fabric soaked around the head of his cock. Another mouth traces a line up the inside of his other thigh, nipping lightly in time with the mouth on his nipple. There’s so much touch, so much but still not enough.

“Use your words, love,” Aziraphale says from somewhere in the vicinity of his hips.

“Angel.” Crowley gasps as the mouth on his chest takes his nipple between his teeth. “Touch me.”

“I am touching you.”

Crowley has never begged Aziraphale for anything in bed before now. “ _Please._ ”

He feels the ghost of a laugh on his thigh, and he moans loudly as Aziraphale’s lips press against his cock through his underwear, dropping the lightest of kisses up and down its length. “Is this what you meant?”

“Yes, yes, _more –”_

Fingers slip under his underwear, and he tenses, eagerly anticipating Aziraphale’s touch – and to his shock, there’s a loud tearing sound as Aziraphale rips off his underwear completely, releasing his cock _._

 _“Fuck,”_ Crowley says fervently, so turned on that he’s almost painfully hard.

“Oh, you liked that?” Fingertips brush against the head of his cock before a hand closes around him, stroking him once lightly. It was absolutely _maddening._ “Answer me.”

“Yes. Yes, angel.” Crowley’s trembling, already on the edge of coming just from the hands running up and down his legs, the mouth on his neck. He feels fingers press against his lips, and obediently he opens his mouth – a finger slips in and he swirls his tongue around it, sucking hungrily.

Crowley loses all capacity for thought as a mouth swallows his cock straight down to the hilt without preamble – he would have come if not for the hands pinning him to the bed by the waist. Crowley’s moaning loudly around the two fingers in his mouth now, and the heat of pleasure from the tongue on his cock has him completely undone.

“Don’t come until I say so, dearest,” Aziraphale says softly. “Can you do that?”

Crowley nods, though his hips are moving helplessly against the hands holding him down. The fingers in his mouth are withdrawn, and he’s being thoroughly kissed once more. He feels slick fingers trailing a line down from his balls to his perineum, down to his ass, probing gently at his hole.

“Oh, fuck, _angel_ –”

“Just a little more.”

Crowley clings to the soothing tone of Aziraphale’s words, a sharp contrast to the way the hands and mouths are moving on Crowley’s body, overwhelming him with sensation.

He moans as a finger breaches him, pushing in slowly to the first knuckle before withdrawing, pushing deeper until it’s fully sheathed in him – it brushes against his prostate, and he cries out. “Aziraphale, _ah – please!_ ” He’s shaking with the effort of holding back, a mouth licking at his clavicle, a tongue swirling around the head of his cock, hands caressing his thighs, his stomach, his chest.

Aziraphale presses a kiss softly on the corner of his mouth. “ _Come.”_

“Angel!” Crowley keens as the hands on his hips holding him down finally let go, and he jerks into Aziraphale’s mouth, every inch of him shuddering as white-hot pleasure floods him. Slowly, he comes down from his orgasm with hands touching him gently, kisses being pressed all over his body.

“Was that good?” Aziraphale asks, his voice low and hungry.

“ _Yes_. Fuck. So good, angel.” Crowley’s still trying to catch his breath. “Let me… let me touch you.”

“Time enough for that later. For now, I’d like you to put on a different Effort, if you please.”

 _Oh._ “Do you want me to keep my cock or switch it out completely?”

Aziraphale makes a considering noise. “You _are_ rather tempting, aren’t you? Switch it out for now, then maybe later we can talk about some of our other options.”

Ever the hedonist, his angel. Crowley grins and concentrates, shifting from one Effort to another. He spreads his legs a little wider.

Aziraphale sighs with delight. “Lovely as always. Thank you, my dear.”

“My pleasure,” Crowley says roguishly, knowing that Aziraphale must be appreciating the sight of him like this, but he’s quickly distracted by the sensation of hands on his body moving once more, petting and caressing, Aziraphale’s demanding mouth on his. The dizzying thrill of it combined with the low-level burn of the ropes around his wrists are going straight to his cunt, and he’s already moaning around Aziraphale’s tongue in his mouth.

“Certainly, this is for your pleasure,” Aziraphale says as he pulls away slightly, his teeth tugging carefully at Crowley’s bottom lip. “You deserve all the pleasure I can give.”

A hand runs up Crowley’s inner thigh, and he shivers as fingertips brush against his labia, parting them gently. Already, he’s close to begging for it – he’s a complete wreck in Aziraphale’s hands. “Angel,” he moans, his cunt clenching around nothing. “More.”

“Look at that, so wet for me already.” Aziraphale’s fingers stroke up and down agonisingly slowly, and Crowley whimpers as Aziraphale lingers gently on his clit. He thrusts his hips, chasing Aziraphale’s touch, and groans as a finger slides into him – but the pleasure is frustrating, the stimulation nowhere near enough. “Patience, darling,” Aziraphale whispers, and the finger is withdrawn.

“Angel, I want your mouth,” Crowley rasps out.

Aziraphale hums agreeably. “I do love how you taste like this.” Crowley feels the bed shift as a weight settles between his legs once more, as lips press against the sensitive skin of his thigh, gently biting. He sighs as a mouth laves over his nipple, as a hand traces over the planes of his stomach, as a tongue dips into his navel. Fingers spread him apart and Crowley cries out at the hard lick of a flat tongue all the way from his cunt to his clit. Aziraphale’s mouth quickly stifles his moans, his tongue plundering Crowley’s mouth.

Crowley grinds down against the tongue that’s licking eagerly between his legs, lapping at his entrance with noises that he’s come to associate with Aziraphale revelling in a spoonful of chocolate gateau. Aziraphale licks at his clit, alternating light flicks with a lingering suck that makes Crowley’s hands clench around the ropes, the sting of divinity grounding him.

“You taste so delicious, my love. Are you enjoying this?” Aziraphale whispers against his mouth, and he nods frantically, racked by waves of pleasure. He throws his head back in a long groan when fingers push into his cunt, filling him wonderfully. A mouth takes the opportunity to nip down the exposed skin of his neck as the fingers in him gently turn and curl, pressing against a spot deep in him that makes him see stars.

“I’m close, angel,” Crowley gasps out. “Don’t stop.”

“You can come as often as you want now,” Aziraphale says, pressing a kiss against the serpent’s mark on his face. “Because I’m going to take you apart piece by piece. I’m going to make you _scream.”_

And that does it – Crowley’s back arches and his hips undulate off the bed as he comes, crying out with the blinding pleasure of Aziraphale’s skilful touch, his body shuddering on and on as the fingers in him continue to thrust, wringing out every bit of pleasure from his body.

“Colour?” Aziraphale asks.

“Green, angel, holy _fuck –”_

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Aziraphale says smugly as he nips at Crowley’s ear, and all the breath is punched out of Crowley as a cock pushes into his oversensitive cunt, and he cries out, shivering from head to toe with the sensation of being _filled_.

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale says from between his legs, sounding every bit as wrecked as Crowley feels, as hands travel up and down Crowley’s shivering flank. “You feel amazing. Is this good for you, my love?” He begins to move in slow, deep thrusts right against the sensitive spot that makes Crowley’s toes curl.

“Yes, _ah,_ fuck, angel –” He’s still riding the wave of his last orgasm, and already he can feel himself on the brink of cresting once more as he moves his hips to meet Aziraphale’s thrusts, gasping for breath.

“Like this?” Aziraphale pulls him closer until their hips are flush together and wraps Crowley’s legs around his waist. Crowley cries out as the change in angle lets Aziraphale push into him deeper. Aziraphale grinds their hips together, until Crowley’s arms are shaking with pleasure and he’s straining against the prickling bonds that are holding him immobile.

“ _Yes,_ just like that, keep going, _ah –_ ” Crowley’s words are punctuated with breathy moans as Aziraphale continues to fuck him just the way he likes it, and the pleasure rises higher and higher until a hard thrust pushes him over the edge and he’s coming _again,_ a wordless cry tearing from his throat at the peak of his pleasure.

He comes down from it slowly, panting for breath as fingertips press against his lips lightly.

“How was that?” Aziraphale whispers, kissing his cheek.

Crowley has to swallow before he can remember how to speak. Aziraphale is still buried deep in him, and still hard – he bends over to kiss Crowley, who moans quietly as the cock inside him shifts. “Amazing. Fuck, angel, you always are.”

“Colour?”

The question pulls a huff of laughter from Crowley’s lips. His _insatiable_ angel. “Green.”

“I think we’ll give your wrists a break now,” Aziraphale says, and hands are already undoing the knots of the ropes around Crowley’s wrists, massaging his hands and forearms gently as he sighs with relief.

“I liked those, by the way.”

Lips press a kiss into Crowley’s palm. “Next time again, then.”

“Next time,” Crowley agrees as an arm wraps around his waist, and his mind promptly short-circuits as he’s pulled up onto his knees – now he’s on top of Aziraphale, his cock buried to the hilt in Crowley, who groans in pleasure.

“ _Fuck.”_

“I know you like it like this,” Aziraphale says complacently as a pair of hands supports Crowley, keeping him upright. A hand turns Crowley’s face to the side and kisses him deeply. Another mouth nibbles at the shell of Crowley’s ear as two more pairs of hands continue to rub the circulation back into his hands. It is so much sensation that Crowley’s lost in it – until Aziraphale decides to rock up into him.

“ _Ah,_ angel,” Crowley gasps, his cunt already aching to come once more. He rolls his hips, pleased at how that punches a moan out of Aziraphale. “That feels – _oh,_ let me touch you, _please._ ”

“If you insist,” Aziraphale says, biting at the tender skin of Crowley’s neck as he guides Crowley’s hand to his cock, closing his fingers gently around its length. Crowley moves his hand slowly, blindly feeling his way to the sensitive head of Aziraphale’s cock, rubbing his thumb over its slick tip. The cock buried inside Crowley twitches as Aziraphale groans, panting softly against Crowley’s neck.

“S’that good, angel?” Crowley says cheekily, unable to keep the satisfied smirk off his face at the knowledge that Aziraphale too is coming apart at his hands.

“I’ll show you _good,_ ” Aziraphale growls into his ear, and Crowley gasps as Aziraphale thrusts up into his cunt, as teeth sink into his shoulder, as his mouth is thoroughly plundered, as hands run up and down his back, squeezing his buttocks firmly. “The goal is for you to lose your mind, darling. If you’re still able to think coherently, I must not be succeeding quite yet.”

Crowley groans wordlessly, already lost in the heady sensation of Aziraphale’s cock sliding in and out of him in a slow, pleasurable drag. Hands grasp his waist firmly as Aziraphale fucks him deep and slow, just the way he loves it, every thrust pushing a gasp from his throat. He feels hands spreading his buttocks, a slick finger circling at his entrance, and his eyes fly open beneath the blindfold.

“Aziraphale –”

“Colour, my dear?” Aziraphale’s voice is every bit as hoarse as Crowley’s, and he exhales sharply as Crowley remembers to move his hand, stroking Aziraphale’s cock firmly, twisting his wrist the way he knows drives Aziraphale mad. “Oh, _fuck.”_

“Green,” Crowley gasps out as the finger breaches him. “ _Angel._ More _._ ” He grinds down as the finger pushes in deeper, and Aziraphale’s hands tighten around Crowley’s waist as he cants his hips up into Crowley. The combined sensation of everything all at once is nearly excruciating, and Crowley can feel his orgasm building, a slow boil beneath the surface. A throaty moan leaves Crowley’s lips as a second finger breaches him. He feels so full, pleasure coursing like fire through his body, setting every inch of him alight.

His cunt squeezes around Aziraphale, who groans aloud. “Oh, Crowley, you’re so _tight._ ”

“ _Fuck,_ if you keep this up, I’m going to –”

“That is the general idea, yes,” Aziraphale says, chuckling breathlessly.

Crowley’s answering laugh is cut short as he loses his breath at the sensation of a _third_ finger entering him. “Oh _holy shit,_ angel,” he moans, and somewhere in the back of his mind he’s in awe at the sheer amount of multitasking that Aziraphale is doing, so many hands and mouths and cocks all at once – and his train of thought is promptly interrupted by the simultaneous thrust of cock and fingers into him, hard and deep and _so good –_ Crowley tips over the brink, clenching around Aziraphale, and he slumps against the Aziraphale beside him, writhing and crying out, his hips jerking helplessly with pleasure.

Hands rub Crowley’s shoulders soothingly, kisses are dropped lightly along his spine, and a soft sound leaves his mouth as the fingers withdraw – but Aziraphale’s cock is _still_ hard inside him. A pair of hands guides him down until he’s lying against Aziraphale, their stomachs and chests pressed together. He feels Aziraphale press a kiss into his hair. Crowley feels as though he’s floating in a haze of contentment, and Aziraphale is so _warm._

“Colour?” Aziraphale asks, his hand rubbing circles into Crowley’s back, and travels down lower, caressing the swell of Crowley’s buttocks, a finger slipping in the crease between. “We can stop now, if you like.”

“No, not yet,” Crowley says. He wants this to last, he can keep going a while longer. “Green.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yeah, angel. I promised I’d tell you if it changes.”

“Thank you, my dear.”

Crowley lets out a soft noise as he feels fingers probing his entrance once more, and this time, it’s followed by the gentle nudge of Aziraphale’s cock, all slick and velvet hardness. “Aziraphale,” Crowley sighs, involuntarily clenching around the cock in his cunt, already weak at the thought of being taken like this. “Green, please, keep going.”

“You must tell me if it’s too much, my dear,” Aziraphale murmurs. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” Crowley says, pressing his lips into Aziraphale’s shoulder. “But I’ll tell you if I need to stop.”

“Before we start, I’d like you to see this now. And more importantly, I’d like to see _you_.”

The knot of the blindfold around Crowley’s eyes is undone and pulled off, and Crowley blinks, his eyesight slightly blurry after having his eyes covered for so long. When everything comes properly back into focus, he props himself up on his elbows to get a better look at his angel – a vision of pale hair and blue eyes and flushed skin lying against the dark sheets of his bed, propped up against the pillows.

“Aziraphale,” he murmurs. “I don’t think I’ve told you lately how beautiful you are.”

The angel’s face brightens. “You should take a look in the mirror, my love.” He turns his face to the side and looks up at Crowley meaningfully. “And I do mean that quite literally.”

“What?” Crowley turns his head and sees that Aziraphale has miracled a mirror into existence that covers the entire wall, and his eyes widen at his own reflection, all tousled red curls and serpent’s eyes. What a picture Aziraphale has so cleverly directed for Crowley to look at – he’s in the centre straddling Aziraphale, with another Aziraphale kneeling behind him, one hand on Crowley’s hip, the other on his own cock, a third Aziraphale sitting on the edge of the bed, watching Crowley as though he’s _waiting_.

“Holy fuck,” Crowley whispers, his mouth dry. He doesn’t know how it’s happened, but he’s even more wet now than he’s been all night at the sight of them.

“I thought you’d enjoy seeing this,” the Aziraphale kneeling behind him says with satisfaction, his hand moving up from Crowley’s hip to touch his chest, the outlines of his stomach. “Yourself, thoroughly ravished, taking every pleasure I can give you.”

Crowley can only nod wordlessly, biting his lip as he tries not to buck his hips against Aziraphale. His cunt is already so sensitive, but he wants more. He wants to see Aziraphale take him, just like this. But then he realises something. “Hang on, angel. Weren’t there four of you earlier?”

The three Aziraphales smile at him in unison, and the Aziraphale beneath him turns his head to look behind Crowley. Crowley turns, following his gaze, and sees the fourth Aziraphale sitting in an armchair next to the bed, an open box of chocolates and a cheese board on a small table next to him, the very picture of decadent relaxation. “I love seeing you like this, you know,” he says, crossing his legs as he takes a sip of wine from the glass he's holding. “Nothing pleases me more than seeing you pleased.”

“So you’re just going to sit there and watch yourself debauching me?” Crowley says incredulously, a wide grin spreading across his face.

“I’m going to sit here and watch you _being debauched,”_ Aziraphale corrects him. He takes a chocolate from the box and gets to his feet. “Open your mouth.”

Crowley’s mouth obediently opens before he can think, and Aziraphale gently pushes the chocolate onto his tongue. It’s rich and bitter, and as Crowley bites down, a tart sweetness floods his mouth – chocolate-covered strawberries, his one weakness. He shoots Aziraphale a dirty look. “I feel like I’m being taken advantage of here.”

Aziraphale laughs. “You petulant thing. You’re having the time of your life and you know it.” As Crowley chews and swallows, Aziraphale’s fingers press against Crowley’s lips, smearing chocolate on them. It’s delicious, but nowhere near as good as the taste of Aziraphale in Crowley’s mouth as he bends to kiss Crowley eagerly, his tongue chasing the traces of chocolate out of Crowley’s mouth.

At last, Aziraphale pulls away, and his eyes are slightly glazed, his cheeks flushed darker. “Come now, my dear. I believe the show’s about to begin.” He smiles at Crowley, and the tip of his pink tongue darts out to lick a smudge of chocolate from the corner of Crowley’s mouth.

Crowley nods, thoroughly captivated as Aziraphale settles back into the chair and selects another chocolate from the box, popping it between his kiss-reddened lips. Crowley’s hips jerk reflexively as Aziraphale moans around the chocolate in his mouth. Even now, after thousands of years of sharing meals together, the sight and sound of Aziraphale indulging in a particularly sinful delicacy never fails to make Crowley dizzy.

“Delicious. I completely understand why these are your favourite.” Aziraphale licks his fingers slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on Crowley.

“Angel,” Crowley says hoarsely as the three Aziraphales on the bed with him begin to move – there are soft dimpled hands all over his body, touching every inch of him, and the Aziraphale kneeling next to him kisses him deeply, his mouth warm and demanding, swallowing Crowley’s moans. As he breaks the kiss, the Aziraphale beneath Crowley pulls him back down and kisses him again, and his elbows nearly give way at how thoroughly he’s being ravished.

The Aziraphale kneeling next to him buries a hand in his hair and tugs, eliciting a gasp from Crowley as he sucks a bruise into the soft skin below Crowley’s ear. Crowley squirms against the cock that’s been hard inside him all this time, the pleasure already beginning to build. The hand in his hair pulls him to look at the mirror once more.

From the armchair, Aziraphale speaks. “Now, my dear, I want you to watch.”

Crowley’s eyes widen as he sees the Aziraphale kneeling behind him move, feels him rubbing the slick head of his cock against Crowley’s entrance.

“Watch,” Aziraphale repeats, and a low moan escapes Crowley’s throat as the hand in his hair tightens its grip, holding him in place. Aziraphale’s cock breaches him, and the burning stretch is so tight and hot – his reflection gazes back at him, his lips red and swollen and obscenely parted in ecstasy as Aziraphale pushes deeper into him, slowly withdrawing and pushing in, inch by inch until both cocks are fully sheathed in Crowley. He feels for a moment as though he’s going to pass out from the sheer pleasure of it – he’s so deliciously full and everything is so hot and wet, and there are hands moving everywhere on his body, rubbing his thighs, gripping his hips.

“Aziraphale,” he moans. “Fuck, angel, _fuck_.”

The Aziraphale gripping his hair smiles. “Colour?”

“Green, _ah_ , angel, please _move –_ ”

His words are cut off as the Aziraphale beneath him cants his hips up, thrusting his cock deep into Crowley’s cunt. A high-pitched whine escapes Crowley’s throat as the Aziraphale kneeling behind him gently pushes in deeper, the head of his cock pressing against Crowley’s prostate.

“Like this?” Aziraphale whispers.

“Yes, just like that, _ah!_ ”

The hand in his hair turns his head slightly, and he finds Aziraphale’s stiff cock a few inches from his lips. “Would you, darling?”

“O-of course, angel,” Crowley says, gasping with every thrust into his body. He wraps his lips around Aziraphale’s cock, swirling his tongue around the head, just the way Aziraphale likes it. Aziraphale groans and the hand in his hair tightens as Crowley unhinges his jaw and swallows Aziraphale down to the hilt, his nose brushing the hair at the base of Aziraphale’s cock. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the Aziraphale seated on the armchair wrap a hand around his own cock, stroking himself slowly.

 _If it’s a show he wants, it’s a show he’ll get,_ Crowley thinks, and undulates his hips against the two cocks buried inside him. It’s so tight that both cocks are pressing into all the sensitive spots deep in him, and Crowley pants around the cock in his mouth, bobbing his head up and down as he tries desperately not to come just yet. The Aziraphale behind him adjusts himself, pulling out almost completely before thrusting back in at a new angle that has Crowley moaning loudly, each slow, hard thrust pressing against his prostate and making his body shudder with pleasure. His thighs give way, but an arm wraps itself around his waist, holding him up.

“Oh, my dearest,” Aziraphale murmurs from the armchair. “I do hope you’re enjoying yourself as much as I am.”

The Aziraphale beneath Crowley pins Crowley’s hips down against him, and begins rolling his hips slowly, his pubic bone grinding against Crowley’s clit in an unyielding rhythm, his cock buried deep in Crowley – the noises Crowley is making would be embarrassing if he didn’t have a cock in his mouth muffling them. He sucks deeply as Aziraphale gasps, thrusting shallowly into his mouth. The Aziraphale kneeling behind him begins to move faster, fucking Crowley harder, and the pleasure builds and builds until the orgasm slams into Crowley, his whole body shaking with pleasure as he cries out Aziraphale’s name.

The cock in his mouth pulls out and the hand in his hair tightens almost painfully as this Aziraphale groans and comes all over Crowley’s chest, but the two others continue to fuck into him, lifting Crowley up bodily by the hips and pulling him back down onto his cock, rolling his hips again and again, with the pressure building from the cock against his prostate until the pleasure crashes into Crowley with the force of a tidal wave. He collapses against Aziraphale’s chest with his eyes clenched shut, writhing helplessly and gasping as Aziraphale’s hips stutter and both cocks thrust in deep, holding Crowley in place as they spill inside him.

For a few minutes, Crowley drifts, his face buried in Aziraphale’s neck. He sighs as Aziraphale softens and pulls out of him. There’s a snap of fingers, and Crowley feels himself miracled clean and dry. Aziraphale’s arms wrap around him, holding him close. He catches a glimpse of the reflection in the mirror – it’s just the two of them again now. Crowley lays his hand on Aziraphale’s chest, feeling the heartbeat thrumming under his palm.

“Well, that was a thing,” he says at last, and he feels the vibration of Aziraphale’s mirth against his skin. “Good effort, angel. Or Efforts, I should say.”

“Why, thank you.” Aziraphale’s hand caresses idly up and down Crowley’s back, tracing the outline of the dimples above his buttocks. “I aim to please. Do you think you’d like to do that again next time?”

Crowley huffs out a laugh. “Absolutely. But maybe let me sleep for the next day or so.”

“I suppose even occult stamina must have its limits.”

“Bastard,” Crowley mutters. “I’d like to see _you_ try it.”

Aziraphale hums. “Do you know, I’d rather like to.”

Crowley cracks open an eye to peer at Aziraphale, who’s gazing at the ceiling with a speculative look on his face. He squints for a minute, trying to parse what it might mean, then he realises it’s the expression Aziraphale makes when he’s looking at a menu at a restaurant and can’t quite choose which of the entrées he’d like best.

“Angel,” he says with dawning comprehension. “You know as well as I do that I’d never deprive you of your options.”

“I don’t think I know what you mean, dear.”

“You do.” Crowley snickers as he presses his cheek against Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. You’ll have me in _infinite_ variety. I seem to recall you were particularly partial to my… what was the term you used? _Peasant garb_ in 1793.”

“Crowley!” Aziraphale swats at his arm. “That was _not_ what I said and you know it.”

“Hm, let me think.” Crowley props his chin up on his hand, watching Aziraphale with a smirk as the flush creeps from the angel’s face down his neck. “What was it you said exactly? Oh, yes. I remember. ‘Oh, _good Lord.’_ The face you made.” Crowley imitates Aziraphale’s derisive tone with relish and shakes his head in mock disapproval, thoroughly enjoying Aziraphale’s discomfiture. “In dear old Shakespeare’s words, you were _clean starved for a look_.”

“ _Stop.”_

“Or perhaps you would prefer me as I was that night I drove you home from the church?”

“1941,” Aziraphale says, rolling his eyes. “All right, I will admit you were quite dashing that night.”

Crowley grins. “Shall we go a little further back?”

“Try 4004 B.C.” Aziraphale glares at him, the flush spread over his chest.

Crowley opens his mouth, but no words come out – only an embarrassment of consonants all tangled together as he struggles to string his thoughts out in a coherent sentence.

“4004 B.C.?” He manages at last. The very tips of his ears are burning. “That – that far back?”

Aziraphale sighs, the annoyance on his face giving way to something closer to fond exasperation. “Yes, you wily old serpent. Maybe I didn’t know it for what it was back then, but yes, since the Garden.”

“Oh.” Crowley looks down at Aziraphale’s chest for a moment, lost for words. But Aziraphale cups his face and tilts his head up to look him in the eye.

“Are you so surprised that I’ve loved you this long?”

“It’s not that,” Crowley splutters, trying to regain his footing. “I just – you never told me, that’s all.”

“Oh, well. Forgive me, then.” Aziraphale’s eyes soften, and he pushes himself up to kiss Crowley gently. “Just to make things perfectly clear, I’ve loved you since the day I first met you at the Wall.”

Crowley laughs, suddenly more exposed now than ever under Aziraphale’s gaze – so completely seen and known and _loved_. “Well, I suppose I did promise you an infinite variety.”

**Author's Note:**

> Look, this is my first PWP ever, please have mercy lmao. Writing this was like a fever dream. Have a spectacular #Azirafeast, everyone, because these two sure did. 
> 
> Thank you so much to [NaroMoreau](https://www.archiveofourown.org/users/NaroMoreau/pseuds/NaroMoreau) for being the most wonderful beta, and for all the endless encouragement when I wanted to throw in the towel and not ever let this fic see the light of day! And to [Jenanigans1207](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenanigans1207/pseuds/Jenanigans1207) for all the YELLING over this ahhhh!
> 
> Come find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/contraststudies) or [Tumblr](https://contraststudies.tumblr.com/)!


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